


33%

by Heavenward (PreludeInZ)



Series: Thunderbirds Prompts [30]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Oneshot, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:10:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7877770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreludeInZ/pseuds/Heavenward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fic: Alan, 33% for the prompt thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	33%

"Okay, Thunderbird 3, you've got a clear line out of orbit. Give her the full burn."

And no restrictions. No "cap at a third max power", no "only twenty seconds", just the very first time he's been let all the way loose. His hands are sweaty in their gloves and his gloves are tight on the controls and he swallows hard and says "FAB, John."

"It won't be like the times you've done this before," his older brother warns him. "These are forces that won't feel real and you'll be scared. It'll be okay. Burn as long as you want and just learn what it feels like, you'll be okay if you keep to the heading you've got set, just don't switch off manual nav. I've got you on all the right monitors, it'll be fine."

"Psh, John. I've been in One with Scott, this'll be--"

"Virtually nothing like this. One caps out at Mach Twenty and it doesn't clear the atmosphere. You're running an ion engine in deep space, it won't compare."

Alan exhales a slow breath and stares out his viewport. "Okay. Right. I guess I'd better just do it?"

"Whenever you're ready. Good luck, Al."

"FAB, John. Thanks."

Quick, like a bandaid. All the right switches are toggled, all the lights are green. Alan reaches his hand over to the handle of the throttle and rolls the bar forward, warming up the engines. "Thunderbird 3 is go," he murmurs to himself, and punches the throttle up, out of the green, into the yellow, and through to the final third of the gauge, into the red.

Behind him, in a cloud of plasmic glow that's gone as soon as it flares into being, the third planet shrinks away to nothing. And over the comms in Thunderbird Five, far off and getting further, John smiles as his little brother laughs.


End file.
